


A Thousand Words

by transcrab



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bullying, Cutting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sadstuck, Self-Hatred, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7135376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transcrab/pseuds/transcrab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a thousand words, muttered barely loud enough to hear<br/>yet still, they manage to take a life</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU in which trolls and humans live together on Earth.

_Stare down, don't utter a word. Don't let them see pain. Walk past, ignore the feeling of being shoved. Ignore the words all around you. Mutant. Freak. Worthless._ These words simply passed by the trolls ears. Not a single word brought out a reaction. Well, right now at least. Later, he would see his grey face in the mirror and those words would repeat. This time, being said by himself.

 _Stare in the mirror. Fake the smile one last time, before the tears fall._ "You really are pathetic," he hissed to himself, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He had finally broke the silence he held all day. Ask anyone at school, they'd tell you he was mute. It was his choice though, to never utter a word in public. Act cold, never show pain. Maybe then they will stop. They never did. Maybe actually, they did and it was just his brain causing the torment.

 _Take a breath, stare down. Wash the blood from your wrists. One for every word. Every time someone whispered freak, every time mutant was screamed. Clean up all the blood, no sign of any act of harm. Put the pencil sharpener back together. Roll up the sleeves. Wash tears from cheeks. Force a smile, and exit the bathroom._ Karkat went through this every day. The same old routine, and pray to god Kankri never sees his wrists. Each cut, was made for every hurtful thing said to him. Every insult, every time he was told to just go **die** already. Every single time he was shoved against a wall, every kick he took. Each cut, was for each of those. Fucking up, his already hurt body.

 _Walk outside, and light a cigarette. Take a drag and blow the smoke to the side. Repeat this pattern._ Karkat stared as the smoke drifted and faded into nothing. It was like this every day, standing out on the porch inhaling the toxins from the cigarette. He stared at the grass and brought the cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag. Then broke out coughing. Still, he brought it back to his mouth. 

_Put out the cigarette, bury it where no one will see. Step inside the house, wash your hands. Brush teeth, and change clothes. Erase all the signs of the earlier incident._ Karkat was quick to hide the fact the he smoked. Kankri would be upset to find out his "perfect" brother had strayed so far from the path of perfection. Then again, is anyone really perfect? Karkat stared down, as he put his clothes in the washing machine turning it on.

 _Hear the door open, run upstairs. Great the man at the door, let him in. Never get a response, not even a wave. Sit at the table and start to work._ Kankri had gotten home, and like everyday was greeted with Karkat waving and saying hello. Never did Karkat get a response. Never, except the few times Kankri had to rant. Immediately had to. Then instead of a hello, he simply got a long rant on politics or something. Not like Karkat cared, but he acted like he does.

 _Simply work, don't bother to stray. Add the numbers, define the words. At least act perfect around him. No one knows the fucked up truth. Finally snap, and slam the book shut._ "Karkat, that noise could very much trigger someone," the first words that were said that day. Karkat simply growled in response, "Not even a hello?" The first thing he hears that day from his brother, was simply being told he was triggering. Oh well, it doesn't matter, and it never did. Karkat didn't matter.

_Run upstairs, skip a meal again. Stare at the wall, and pretend. Life is easy, no one is hateful. Imaging the perfect life. Take the pills, and hope to god, to never wake again._

**Author's Note:**

> This was simply written for me venting, but ay read this fucking garbage.


End file.
